"He's a bad one," continued the partridge. "He began at the bottom and worked down."
"You must help me to find him. Who is he running with?"
"I don't know anything about him. I've heard he knows a girl named Florence Davenport. If you can find her she might help you."
"On Forty-sixth Street," and she gave him a number.
Ralston arose and put his hand in his pocket.
"I am very much indebted to you," he said courteously. "You won't mind if I make good your fine?"
He drew out a bill and placed it in her hand. She raised her eyebrows at sight of its denomination.
"No," she said, "I haven't done anything for you. I don't want the money."
"But your fine?"